


The Eighth Floor

by greybc



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU - Apartment building, Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Peter Parker, Domestic Avengers, EVERYONE IS PROTECTIVE OK, Everyone acting as Peter Parker's parental figures, Explicit Language, F/M, Female Peter Parker, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intern Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Past Child Abuse, Penny is simultaneously badass and a huge dork, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is Penny, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Skip Westcott Being a Jerk, Team as Family, Teen Peter Parker, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, because Penny is a girl, it's not sad the whole time i promise, women in STEM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27807094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greybc/pseuds/greybc
Summary: On the eighth floor of Redding Apartments there are seven units. Nothing’s particularly fascinating about most of them – a 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom type beat. There is, however, one room at the end of the hall that was affectionately nicknamed by one Sam Wilson in the summer of 2017: “The Dungeon”. It caught on.16-year-old Penny Parker needed to be anywhere but home. She needed a fresh start, and found it in an old storage room on a weirdly cult-y floor of an apartment block. A random kid moving into a relatively upscale apartment block in New York City has the residents pretty intrigued, and when Tony of room #5 realises she’s going to be an intern at his tech company, it shakes things up a bit. And Penny’s dark past might just shake things up a bit even more – well, not if she can help it.Or: Penny Parker slowly but surely becomes part of a family.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Loki & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Thor, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff & Peter Parker, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 43
Kudos: 304





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I’m super stoked to introduce this fic to you. Not sure how often I’ll update at this point – this is my first fic ever (so please be gentle haha) and I’m trying to sort a rhythm out. Would love to hear your thoughts and feedback, it’ll motivate me more than anything else to hear what you guys have to say. happy reading xx
> 
> Note: warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter. This story will contain mentions of past child abuse, sexual abuse and some graphic depictions of violence. It will also contain depictions of PTSD and dealing with trauma. Please take care of yourselves xx

On the eighth floor of Redding Apartments there are seven units. Nothing’s particularly fascinating about most of them – a 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom type beat. There is, however, one room at the end of the hall that was affectionately nicknamed by one Sam Wilson in the summer of 2017: “The Dungeon”. It caught on. 

The Dungeon was notorious on the eighth floor for spitting out newbies faster than most of the floor’s residents could even say hello. Why? Well, there are a couple of theories circling amongst the floor’s residents.

Clint thinks it’s haunted, Wanda tells him it definitely isn’t haunted. Nat kicks Clint in the shin and agrees with Wanda. Loki thinks it has asbestos. Bruce kindly reminds him that Redding does regular routine checks for asbestos. Steve proposes that it’s because the twelve of them are probably highly intimidating neighbours who scrutinise every single new member of the floor. Tony scoffs and conclusively states that the Dungeon used to be a storage area, has one tiny window, and the toilet is an arm’s length away from the bed – and no matter how optimistic one is about being able to live in such a confined space, it always ends up being far more fucking awful than they realised. 

Steve and Tony are probably both right. 

The twelve of them have lived on Redding’s eighth floor for almost four years, since the units went up for sale. Since that fateful day around Christmas in 2016 ( _“a dark time for the U.S. but a bright time for this ol’ mess” – Sam Wilson, once again_ ), they’ve become like family. A dysfunctional one, but a family, nonetheless.

Which is why when a clueless new individual enters their well-established home once every couple of weeks, it’s not usually taken seriously. 

Enter a shy, kind, surprisingly witty and insanely intelligent 16-year-old girl – Penny Parker.

_Next up: Chapter 2, ‘Plight.’ I know this is a short chapter, but it’s just the intro – bear with me! ___


	2. Plight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn more about Penny and what brought her to the eighth - she's got secrets, alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse, PTSD, trauma processing, and flashbacks. There'll also be explicit language throughout this fic. Keep yourselves safe my loves, and let me know what you think of this chapter! (it's still pretty introductory - they'll get longer, I promise) xx
> 
> also this is SO ANGSTY hahah but it'll get lighter very soon - happy reading :))

Penny’s mother discovered she was gifted when, at age three, she realized her daughter could read analog clocks. A strange way to make such a discovery, yet, such an important one – a discovery that Mary Parker would cherish until the day she died.

Penny didn’t remember it well. She was eight years old when she saw her mother’s beautiful face for the last time, eight years old when she kissed Penny goodnight for the last time, told her she loved her for the last time. Penny thinks, deep down, that a light inside of her dims a little bit more as each day goes by since the accident. 

Sirens. Policeman. Her father, Richard Parker, breaking down, becoming almost catatonic, turning to drugs. Penny on her own. Skip taking—

Skip starting to take care of her.

Books were Penny’s lifeline. She threw herself into learning, achieving, moving forward in the only way she knew how. By the time she was thirteen, Penny was whizzing through college level math. At fourteen, she graduated high school, and by fifteen began her Bachelor’s in Automation and Intelligent Robotics Engineering Technology online (because she was progressing so much faster than her college-aged counterparts). Penny loved it – the books, the inventing, the awards and astonished adults (particularly the dudes) whose regret for underestimating her became more and more palpable each day. On countless nights she’d stay up as late as she could at the library, putting off going home. She loved proving people wrong, showing the world what she could do, showing them she was worth more than—

Worth it. Showing them she was worth it.

But it could only do so much. Being a gifted kid is a horrifically isolating experience. Relentlessly bullied from day dot, Penny struggled to make friends. Not because she wasn’t sociable, or friendly, or even because she was 5’1 – purely because people don’t like people who they perceive to be ‘above’ them. _It makes them feel threatened, Penny-girl. People are uncomfortable when they realize they can’t offer this world as much as others can – so they bring those people down to push themselves up._ This is something Penny’s mother would remind her that she never would forget. 

And then in 2018 at the tender age of fourteen, Penny’s life began to fall apart. The flashbacks started that September.

Skip Westcott was ten years older than Penny. After Mary’s death, the Westcotts were there for the Parkers. Mr and Mrs Westcott, Richard and Mary were all close friends from college. After Mary’s passing, they cooked for Penny and her dad, drove Penny to school when Richard couldn’t, admitted Richard into a rehab facility, let Penny live in their home for 6 months while he recovered. And when he did recover, they moved across the street to keep an eye on them. Skip babysat whenever the parents needed a break. Life moved on.

Or at least, Penny _thought_ it did. But when, one night, she woke up screaming from _the most fucking horrific _nightmare that came out of absolutely nowhere, Penny’s life came to a screeching halt. The nightmare happened again,__

____

_Let’s go upstairs, Penny-girl—_

____

And again,

____

_Shhh, it’s our little—_

____

And again,

____

_Shut the fuck up you whor—_

____

And again,

____

_You’re hurting me, Sk—_

____

And again, until she couldn’t take it anymore. It was hard to move her arms and legs, to get out of bed. She slept constantly, but when she was sleeping, she was thinking about – about _Skip._

____

She started reading. _“When trauma occurs, our bodies activate a protective mechanism. A stressor that is too much for a person to handle overloads the nervous system, stopping the trauma from processing. This overload halts the body in its instinctive fight or flight response, causing the traumatic energy to be stored in the surrounding muscles, organs and connective tissue. Whenever we store trauma in our tissue, our brain disconnects from that part of the body to block the experience, preventing the recall of the traumatic memory. Any area of our body that our brain is disconnected from won’t be able to stay healthy or heal itse—”_

____

These weren’t nightmares, they were _memories_.

____

Memories from not too long ago, some from less than a year beforehand. Penny stopped eating, stopped reading, stopped inventing, became lifeless. They thought it was just her mother’s death finally wreaking havoc on Penny. It was not. On the first night of October, aged 14, she knocked on her father’s door heaving, body wraught with sobs.

____

_Dad,_

____

Deep breaths 

____

_I think something happened to me—_

____

Stop crying

____

_I think it’s still happening—_

____

No 

____

_I need your help, please daddy, please believe me, I want it to stop right n—_

____

And then, she was kicked out of home.

____

She left her childhood home behind on her 15th birthday in March 2019, applied for a job at a huge tech company a couple of hours away and began to make money whilst living in a youth shelter. Life was hard but she managed. The nightmares – no, _memories_ – kept coming at full force. In one, Skip cuts her hand. Penny still has the scar in real life too. Fuck skip, fuck her father and fuck anybody who didn’t believe her. Penny knew the truth.

____

So, she began to save up and set her eyes upon one single goal – interning at Stark Industries in New York City, the biggest and best up-and-coming tech firm in the world. 

____

The Anthony Stark Internship Program was a paid internship awarded to just four students worldwide. And Penny was determined to be one of them. She threw herself into her work, started to get noticed by tech giants offering her six-figure salaries. She turned them down, won prizes (which came with prize money) and worked her ass off with New York City in mind. She became best friends with a boy named Ned, moved in with him, and kept going with her degree (despite the costs). The flashbacks stopped, and she finally felt like the girl she knew she could be. 

____

And on the first night of October in 2020, aged 16, when she finally got the acceptance letter, things couldn’t have been better. She found a place close to Stark Tower in Manhattan – which she was able to afford only a) because of how much money she had saved up, b) because of how much money she’d earn during the internship (it was a whopping amount. When Penny did the calculations, her jaw dropped) and c) because it was an old supply closet or something. So, she packed up, drove to the airport with Ned, and tearfully thanked him for everything before starting her life anew. 

____

Arriving at Redding Apartments at 8:30pm on a rainy Saturday night, Penny went through her cover story in her head. She knew people would grow suspicious of a 16-year-old living on her own in the big city. _My dad is sick_ (not – well, not _exactly_ – true), _I’m completing an internship at Stark Industries to keep afloat and pay for his hospital expenses_ (partially true), _I don’t go to school because I graduated already_ (true), _my mom’s dead_ (true), _my dad calls me every day to check in and make sure I’m ok_ (1000% percent NOT true). What’s the worst that could happen? She chose an apartment block specifically because it was so easy to blend in, so easy to be surrounded by so many but talk to so few. _That’s how things go these days, right? I won’t have to talk to anyone. Heck, I might not ever know my next-door neighbor’s name._

____

So, when she steps out of the elevator and onto the eighth floor – her home for the next year – the last thing she expected to see was twelve people playing a mock-baseball game in the floor’s common area using a hammer (a weirdly shaped one held by this tall and really, really muscly guy with long blonde hair) and a potato.

____

Even worse, she didn’t expect them to immediately stop what they were doing as the elevator doors closed with a _ping_ , whip their heads around, and gawk at Penny like she was Jesus risen from the fucking dead. 

____

The silence is broken by a mumble by some broody looking guy with – is that a _metal arm?_

____

“Potts, you owe me 200 bucks.” 

____

_What. The. Hell._

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Get ready, things are gonna pick up from here on out - next up is chapter three, _Arrival._


	3. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny finally meets the residents, and moves in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No CWs in this one. This one's a bit longer, we're gaining traction. Happy reading!

“ _Alright losers, floor meeting at 7pm, impending dungeon arrival, DON’T BE LATE (BYO)”_

This was the text message sent through to the eighth’s infamous (and highly exclusive) group chat ‘the avengers’ (Tony named this one and won’t tell anyone why. Every time somebody tries to change it Tony leaves rotten fish on their kitchen table, so it’s caught on) by Tony Stark once he caught wind of the arrival of a new Dungeon resident. 

People come and go from the Dungeon so often that it has become an occasion of sorts on the eighth floor. It all started with Rick – sweet, innocent Rick. A 42-year-old Brit brand new to the U S of A, he was doomed from the start. The dungeon’s ceiling leak combined with each of the residents’ incessant need to suddenly communicate with each other in terrible British accents (the walls are thin) prompted him out of there in no time. Many have come and gone in the years since – Vision stopped counting at 28, 8 of whom were ex-prisoners, 6 were middle aged dudes with restraining orders against them, 1 was a scary old lady (the eighth’s aura didn’t suit her). They began to ‘initiate’ the residents with a floor meeting (a certified way to overwhelm the newbies and speed up the exit process – the fastest they ever got someone out was 6 days) and general intimidation. It wasn’t the _nicest_ , but hey, random intruders weren’t the most fun, and sometimes you just have to make your own fun. Dungeon residents usually fit the same profile – over 40, usually male, looking for somewhere to hide, without much appreciation for personal space (there’s not a lot of that in the dungeon).

These facts are precisely what began a betting war between Pepper Potts and Bucky Barnes as soon as the floor meeting began.

“James, quite frankly, you’re being ridiculous. Statistically there’s _no way_ the next resident is going to be a female under 25.”

“What can I say? I’ve got a good feeling.”

“Where’s that feeling coming from? Your bones or your dick?”

“Por que no los dos?”

“I swear to god, when you men are horny all good judgment just gets thrown out the window.” Natasha offers her beer glass to clink with Pepper’s. “I bet you $200 it’ll be a dude over 25.”

“It’s a deal.” They shake hands, each with a smug smile on their faces. One of the many beauties of the eighth floor was that everyone could give each other endless amounts of shit, but still know wholeheartedly that they’d give anything for each other. This was way too cheesy to openly acknowledge, of course.

“So, what’s the initiation prank gonna be this year? I’m thinking we fake a pregnancy, pretend the water’s broken, and tell the newbie they have to drive Wanda to the hospital before she has the baby in their car.”

“Hey! Why me, Clint?”

“You’re the second-best actress, obviously.”

“ _Second_ -best?”

“Well, Nat’s the best, but I think she’d kick me in the balls if I offered her up for the job.” Natasha fixes Clint with a steely glare and dead silence. Nat’s glares are infamous on the floor for scaring the recipient so badly that pants have been literally wet.

“Maybe we should just try and be nice for a change? It mi—”

“HA! Steve, you’re funny. That’s not happening, it’s floor tradition” Tony interjects. “Everyone who agrees with me please sing “I” in A#, no flatter, no sharper.”

“We all agree with you Stark but that’s not happening” replies Loki with an eye-roll. “Pranks are the only thing that bring me joy in this god-forsaken shithole, Steve. Don’t take that away from me.”

“Brother, it would bring me great joy should we do ‘get help’.”

“Thor we are NOT doing the ‘get help’ prank EVER again.”

“It works every time!”

“Hey, I love ‘get help’!” says Bruce, followed by a series of amused chuckles and woops of encouragement from the rest of them, much to Loki’s dismay.

“NO! We are NOT—”

Before Loki could finish, the famous ‘ _ping’_ of the elevator sounded, signalling the new dungeon resident’s arrival. As they all turned towards the elevator, each resident’s face (save for Nat and Vision, who were weirdly emotionless in almost every situation) slowly morphed into variations of disbelief, curiosity and fear – even Bucky, who had just won 200 bucks, was horrified.

It was a _teenage girl._ She definitely couldn’t have been over 18, but _surely_ she was, because how could a kid be moving into a New York City apartment all on her own, the DUNGEON at that? But alas, the new floor resident was a _kid._ If the big, youthful wandering eyes weren’t a tell, the height and ‘Gen-Z for Biden’ t-shirt were more than enough.

What followed was approximately 2 minutes (120 seconds. Count ‘em.) of awkward silence – by the time Bucky opened his mouth,

“Potts, you owe me 200 bucks.”

The night had turned around significantly, and the eighth – for the first time in a long, long time – were officially thrown for a loop.

_What. The. Hell._

_*****_

Forcing herself to stop looking at the metal arm, Penny broke the silence.

“Uhhh – hi? Um. I’m Penny. Penny Parker. It’s nice to meet you all – um, who are you, exactly?” Penny stammered – which was a miracle, because her heart was beating a million miles a minute and she was unsure how she formed a comprehensive sentence.

The following could be described as a depiction of the glances shot between the eighth’s twelve residents in the span of about three seconds:

_UMMM. Is anyone else seeing what I’m seeing?_

_Yes, Sam, we are in fact seeing what you’re seeing._

_This poor innocent baby cannot be moving into the dungeon. LOOK at her puppy dog eyes!_

_Ugh. I hate children._

_She won’t last 2 days. Poor kid._

_I still want to prank her thou-_

_NO, Clinton. NO._

_Ok idiots somebody say something before I actually lose my shit._

_Stark YOU’RE supposed to be floor captain!_

_Oh, so it’s only NOW that you’re acknowledging my well-overdue and rightful claim to floor captain?_

_YES! NOW SAY SOMETHING!_

“Hi, kid. What are you here for?” As the words came out of his mouth, Penny suddenly realised that she recognised that man. Not only was he her idol, but he was the man she was going to intern for for the foreseeable future. Tony Stark. _Tony freaking Stark!!!_

  
“Oh my god! You’re Sony Tark! Shit, I mean Tony Stark. I mean, Mr. Stark, uhh, sir. Sorry, I do know who you are, you’re actually super cool, at least I think so, um, I’m interning at Stark Industries in your program! Oh god, sorry, I didn’t answer the question. Um, I’m here to move to room number 7. Sorry for the rambling.” Penny exhaled with a sheepish smile. _Jesus, Penny. You’ve officially blown it._ In that moment, Penny wanted to crawl into a hole and die peacefully, preferably without memory of the past 3 minutes of her life.

As embarrassing as her rant was, to be fair, this situation was quite literally the definition of sensory overload for Penny. Not only were twelve highly intimidating (and pretty goddamn attractive) adults staring into the depths of her soul all at once, a quick glance around the floor was extremely overwhelming. Decorations littered the walls – from photos, to sticky notes, to fairy lights, hanging plants, maps, artworks and a series of graffitied expletives. This was anything but the subtle, boring, lowkey apartment she had been (quite rightfully) anticipating. Penny’s brain continued on its overdrive escapade.

“You probably think I’m stalking you! I swear I really didn’t know you’d be, um, here. Um, Mr. Stark, If you don’t mind me asking, uhh – why?”

“Why what, kid? There’s this thing called words – maybe try using ‘em. Except _slower,_ and in a way that makes sense, that’d be nice.”

“Uh, why do you live here,—” Penny indicated bashfully to Redding’s eighth floor, her stare lingering on the stained couch in the middle of the common room, “when you could live in literal luxury? Aren’t you rich?” At this, Penny literally slapped her hand over her mouth. Her mother always said it was rude to talk about money to strangers. She needed to _stop talking._

“Forget I asked that. I’m so sorry. It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Don’t worry Penny – _Mr Stark_ over here is tired, forgive his curt attitude.” Penny suddenly realised that the woman sending Mr. Stark a sharp look was Pepper Potts, somebody Penny also looked up to thoroughly – so often overlooked as such a key figure in Stark Industries’ success.

“I’m Pepper, it’s lovely to meet you, welcome to the eighth,” Pepper smiled warmly as she shook Penny’s hand. This woman – Pepper – looked _just_ like her mom – strawberry blonde hair, kind eyes, tall and so beautiful. She was like a lifeline in the dark. At this, Penny found her breath and her footing, finally collecting herself. She turned to the other residents.

“Sup kid, I’m Clint.” Waved a nonchalant-looking man with a mohawk, standing next to a woman with fiery red hair and piercing green eyes that made Penny feel like she knew everything about her with just one look.

“Natasha” she nodded, then looked to the next man—

“I’m Dr. Banner.” Red-head – Natasha – proceeded to elbow him in the ribs, to which the man immediately coughed “I’m Bruce.”

“I’m Thor, and this is my brother Loki. Good evening, Penelope.”

Her name wasn’t Penelope. But this guy had HUGE arms and was holding a giant hammer – she wasn’t going to correct him any time soon. His brother scanned her with his eyes and then looked away, disinterested.

“I’m James, call me Bucky.”

“I’m Sam, call me McDreamy.”

“Oh you’re full of it, Sam. Don’t listen to him – I’m Wanda.”

“I’m Vision – welcome, Penny.”

“Hi there Penny, I’m Steve Rogers.” This man had the kindest eyes she’d ever seen on a male body. “Don’t worry if you don’t remember all of our names.”

“Oh, I think she’ll be fine.” Tony knowingly smirked. Penny bashfully looked down, comprehending the fact that _Tony Stark basically just called her smart_.

Despite the fact that this felt like a strange cult introduction (because who on earth collectively introduces a new member to their _entire apartment block floor_ upon arrival?), Penny felt oddly… safe. She could already gather that these people were kind and meant a lot to one another.

“Alright, let’s give Penny some space,” Pepper beckoned all of the residents back to their rooms and turned to Penny, “Tony and I will help you take your things over.”

Sending Pepper a grateful glance, she handed one of her suitcases to _Tony freaking Stark_ and walked down the hall to room number 7, smack bang at the end of the corridor.

 _This would be her new home. Her safe place._ Penny couldn’t help but beam at the sight of it. Using her keys to open the door, she felt hit with a sense of hopefulness. This would be her fresh start, away from her tarnished past – which, _none of them could know about, and Penny was already giving too much away, and oh go-_

“Here it is, kid. Good luck in there, God knows why you’d want to move into this shithol—”

“Tony! God you can be such a _nark_ sometimes!”

“Pepper, this being standing in front of us is brilliant. I can tell her like it is. Plus, we’ll be working together for the next while, so you’re gonna have to learn to put up with my crap.” Tony shot Penny a subtle smize, only noticeable to her. In return, she shot him an appreciative look (trying but failing to get the whole idol worship thing out of her expression all the while).

“Well, if you need anything honey, we’re right next door – room number 5, the first room on your right when you walk out.”

“Thank you Pepper. And Mr. Stark.”

“No worries kid. I’ll be seeing ya.” His eyes shifted down to her bruised knees. “Nice bandaids.”

And suddenly they were gone in one sarcastic flurry.

As the door creaked closed behind them (extremely loudly – that would take some getting used to), Penny flopped onto her bare mattress (narrowly avoiding the toilet right next to her head) and took a moment to breathe. _Finally_. It was small – no, _cosy_ – but so, so, SO much better than where she had come from not so long ago.

And with that thought, Penny got up, opened the small window above the bed, and sat watching the bustling nightlights of New York City, feeling like this was the start of something good.

_*****_

“What. The actual. FAWK.”

“Clint, you know I hate it when you say—”

“Sorry Steve, I forgot about the bad language words.”

“No, it’s not _that—”_

“Everyone shut up!”

The residents of the floor all turned to Tony, who had just closed the Dungeon’s door, walking back to the floor’s common area.

“Are you all stupid or— wait, there’s no alternative there, you’re just stupid. Are you forgetting how thin the Dungeon’s walls are?”

“Meeting in Sam and Bruce’s room!”

“No! Why ours? The last time you were all there you destroyed 3 stacks of extremely important medical documents, not to mention—”

“It’s the furthest from the Dungeon Bruce, you decrepit dingbat.” Proud of his finely crafted insult, Loki led the way to room #1.

As soon as they arrived, the twelve residents sat at Sam and Bruce’s couches, waiting for somebody to start the discussion. Tony took the mantle.

“Penny Parker, she’s 16 and extremely bright. _Extremely_. She’s got one of the internships, so getting rid of her is out of the question. I don’t know much about her other than the fact that her work in robotics is quite literally groundbreaking – that, and she seems annoyingly… enthusiastic. No idea why she’s alone though.”

“Yeah, that’s what’s getting to me.” Steve replied. “How does she have enough money to be living in this city alone? On top of that, where are her parents? A city like this isn’t safe for a kid like her.”

“What, because she’s female? I was living alone at that age.”

“Yeah, Nat, but you’re _you,_ and she’s… well, you saw her.”

“It’s suspicious. I don’t like it.”

“C’mon Nat, you find _everything_ suspicious.”

“Whatever, Clint. She’s obviously escaping from something, why else would she be here alone?”

“That’s, quite frankly, none of our business.”

“Loki, you know you want to know.”

“No, I don’t. Believe me. All of your shit is enough for me to deal with for a lifetime, I don’t need yet another burden. Besides, I refuse to acknowledge that there are people born past the year 2000 who actually exist.”

“She’s young and talented but quite clearly very naïve. We need to look out for her.”

“Pepper are you ever not freakishly maternal?”

“Bucky, I swear to God—”

“To be fair, if what Tony is saying is true, she could have earned a lot of money from prizes and competitions by now. Surely that would be enough to get by living in what’s practically a storage room.”

“I agree with Vision. Besides, we could just _ask_ her, you know.”

“Wanda, for a witch, you make so much sense sometimes.”

“Sam, for the last time, I’m _not—”_

 _“Okay,_ so I think we’ve agreed that we’re gonna keep an eye on the kid. Don’t be creepy though. Especially _you_ , Thor. Now, I personally need my beauty sleep. Meeting adjourned.”

Each resident left room #1 with an odd sense of curiosity. This was a gamechanger to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! And thank you all for the wonderful comments, they mean a lot. Not sure when ch4 will be up, I don't really have a posting schedule (it's just whenever I have the time/am feeling inspired) but hopefully within the next 3 days or so.
> 
> Next up is chapter 4, _Beginnings._ We'll see Penny getting to know the residents better, you'll learn who lives where, and Penny begins her internship.


	4. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After meeting all of the eighth's residents, Penny begins to get to know them. On top of that, she begins her long-awaited internship at Stark Industries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait, you guys! Hopefully this long-ass chapter is gonna make up for it.
> 
> TW: depictions of PTSD, intrusive thoughts, and flashbacks to events involving the deaths of family members, family members not believing survivors, and alluding to child sexual abuse. As always, take care of yourselves.

Room number 7 quickly became everything Penny could have possibly dreamed of. Her first day in New York consisted of buying cleaning supplies (most of her time unpacking the night prior had been spent sneezing). Once satisfied with the cleanliness of the room, Penny had begun to decorate. Nothing too extravagant, just a few subtle hints of red and blue here and there (her favourite colors) and photographs of her and Ned. She’d stacked her books into every shelf, nook and cranny she could find, and sorted out how to incorporate filing space into her workspace. After rearranging the bed so that her head wasn’t next to the toilet, Penny expressed her satisfaction with her work by plugging her earphones in and dancing to the Beatles in the limited space she had. She felt _happy_.

Room 7 felt like her own little cupboard under the stairs, except cute and cosy (and she was there willingly). Inches of space surrounded her, yet she felt miles of freedom at her fingertips.

Penny had lived alone before, but never _truly_ alone. In the youth shelter, she was surrounded by people – but that place was filled with so much despair and hopelessness that it couldn’t remotely compare to what she had now. If she wanted to go down the street and get burgers, she didn’t have to worry about her bed being given away for the night. If she wanted to dance to her favorite playlists until the early hours of the morning, there were no parents, roommates or officials to stop her.

For the first time since the memories started, the weight of Skip on her shoulders, her mind, her _heart_ , began to ease.

New York City was full of opportunity. _The City of Dreams_. Penny couldn’t remember the last time she had a good dream. But this, the _life_ she started living, felt like the best dream she had ever had. It was simple, and definitely not extravagant, but Penny didn’t need extravagant. She needed safety, privacy, and fuel for her ambition.

The privacy aspect of things, however, wasn’t going quite as well as she had hoped. All Penny had wanted was to keep a low profile – _just get work experience, make money, and leave as few traces of your existence as possible._

This was proving to be extremely difficult given her twelve neighbors. They weren’t _nosy_ , per se, but they were _impossible_ to avoid. And when she stumbled into one of the eighth’s residents in the hallway, Penny didn’t have it in her to shrug them off. Besides, a small part of her wanted to impress them – show them she wasn’t a kid who needed to be coddled, but was perfectly fine on her own.

A small part of her wanted to prove that to herself, too.

* * *

The first time Penny had discovered room 7 was never referred to as room 7 was at four in the morning precisely a week after having moved in.

Penny didn’t enjoy sleeping. She wasn’t insomniac or anything, in fact, if she wanted to sleep, she almost always could – and quite easily too. The memories were the issues. The dread of discovering a new one. The fear that paralysed her when she would see Skip’s face. Seeing her mother’s face, only to wake up and be overcome by grief, her body rolling with anguish that she would never get to truly see her mom again. On some days, her fear of sleeping was worse than others.

On those days, walking was her cure. If she walked for long enough, she could make herself so tired that she didn’t dream at all. She didn’t dare to leave Redding, though. She wasn’t stupid, and she did have _some_ self-preservation instincts (on occasion). So, she would explore the building – all fifteen floors of it.

She found the rooftop garden on a cold Thursday morning. As she departed the elevator with a familiar _ping_ , she suddenly realised that her fraying flannelettes and socks were insufficient to combat the crisp dusk air at such an altitude in October. With gently chattering teeth, she walked further towards the edge of the rooftop, letting the frigid air lick at her face and creep under her clothes. The cold was still, not windy, keeping Penny alert yet at ease, brisk fall air wicking away her intrusive thoughts like an icy tide washing away footprints in the sand.

Time slowed. After watching her breaths rise in puffs for what felt like hours, she heard a _ping_ behind her and Penny froze. Her mind whirred as her defences reactivated.

_The door creaks open and he walks in and shuts it softly so that daddy doesn’t hea—_

She recognised the face on the body that walked towards her, though. Tired, warm eyes, with glints of devilish humour sparkling against the light of sunrise. This one was Clint.

All Penny had known about Clint prior to that moment was that he shared room 4 with Natasha (the scary one). He didn’t seem scary though. There are lots of photos on their door, mostly of Clint posing with what are presumably the fruits of his efforts in pranking the rest of the floor (Penny often chuckles at the one of Clint standing next to Bruce trying to clean up a pee-covered bathroom floor, pointing to the plastic wrap covering the toilet with a devilish smirk). There’s a photo stuck haphazardly against their door of Thor shaving the sides of Clint’s head (presumably recently, considering the state of his mohawk) whilst Natasha, Tony and Steve watch on, heads tilted back, laughing with their whole bodies.

_He likes to make people laugh. Can’t be too scary._

Not wanting to intrude, and admittedly a bit nervous to interact with the man (especially with the amount of sleep she’d been running on), Penny began to head back to the elevator, taking one last look at the breathtaking view of the city skyline slowly coming back to life, even though it had never truly slept.

“Uhh, hi Clint. Sorry, I’ll be out of your way in just a sec.”

“Sorry kid, I didn’t catch that. I’m good at lip-reading but not that good – kinda need to see your face, plus, you speak a million miles a minute.”

Wait, what? Lip-reading…. _Oh._ How did she miss that? She subtly glanced at his ear, only to see that he wasn’t wearing a hearing aid. Suddenly, Penny recalled the numerous books she had read on ASL a couple of years ago. She’d never practiced it in person but thought it necessary to learn anyway. Besides, school was far too boring for her, so she consistently sought ways to challenge herself. Becoming fluent in ASL in a matter of six months at the age of eleven just happened to be one of those ways.

 _Sorry about that_ , signed Penny sheepishly.

Seemingly impressed, Clint cocked his head to the side. _You sign?_

 _Well, yeah, now I do._

_How’d you learn?_

_Taught myself._

_Why?_

Penny shrugged nonchalantly. _Thought it’d come in handy. Looks like I was right._

At that, Clint let out a surprised laugh. _You’re a weird kid. Why are you out here at 5am?_

Avert. _Why are you?_

_I dunno. I like the view. People-watching’s my thing. It’s a nice place to be when I don’t wanna have the aid on. No background noise, just lots to look at. Your turn. Why’re you here?_

_Just exploring Redding, I guess._

_Fair enough. The Dungeon must literally swallow you whole. But you’ve lasted this long, so I’m guessing you’re not claustrophobic._

_The Dungeon?_

_I thought you were supposed to be smart, kid._

Penny gazed at him confusedly. Clint sighed.

 _Room number seven? Your room? We call it the Dungeon._

_Oh, really? Uh… why?_

_Are you kidding?_

Penny continued to stare at him blankly. She loved her room. Why would anyone refer to it as a Dungeon?

Clint shook his head with an amused glint in his eye.

_Never mind, kid. You know what, I’ll walk you back to the eighth._

They entered the elevator and stood in silence, quietly appreciating one another’s company. After they parted ways, Penny unlocked her ‘Dungeon’ and put herself to bed. Winding the blinds down as the sun crept up, she was so humoured by the irony of her one safe place being known by others as something so terrible that she fell asleep without any fear in her mind whatsoever.

* * *

Her first interaction with Bruce and Natasha occurred as she was on the way to retrieving a vacuum from the cleaning staff at Redding.

Penny dreaded walking past the common area because in most cases she dreaded social interaction. The residents of the eighth, as she was quickly learning, loved to commune. This was an issue for Penny, because the common area and its couches were smack-bang in the middle of Penny’s path from the Dungeon to the elevator. Usually, she could get by unnoticed. But the fewer the people, the lower the chance of that happening. And Penny already had a feeling that Natasha was an overly observant individual.

_Ok, Penny. Eye contact and smile. It’s not that hard, just smile, good, and now keep goi—_

“Hey Penny. Tony says you’re smart.” Bruce says amicably but clueless as to Penny’s (quite apparent) social anxiety.

“Um, well, that’s really nice of him to say I guess,” Penny laughed awkwardly. How does one respond to a question like that?

Bruce indicates to the chess board he’s currently sitting in front of, with the black pieces, playing Natasha’s white ones. Natasha is winning, pretty convincingly.

“Help me out here?”

_It’s chess, Penny. You’re not good at talking but you’re good at chess._

“Castle to A5.”

“Huh. I would’ve guessed to move the queen,” Bruce says as he follows Penny’s instruction. Natasha responds by moving her rook to B1. Penny could feel her stare centred on the girl, awaiting her response with a sense of well-masked intrigue.

Penny was intimidated. It felt as if Natasha was inviting Penny to screw up.

But, Penny was smart. And her desire to prove herself, to show Natasha that she _could_ belong here and she _wasn’t_ going anywhere, rose above the little warning in her head telling her to _lay low, don’t stand out_.

So, she struck.

“She’s playing a Carlsbad, pretty predictable actually. Her knight’s open now. Go from there.”

“Yes ma’am! You hear that, Nat? Predictable.” Bruce laughed jokingly, albeit clearly impressed, with a kindness in his eyes that Penny felt comforted by.

Remembering that she’d just sledged the scariest woman she’d ever met, she quickly glanced at Natasha, expecting animosity or even annoyance. Instead, Penny was surprised to be met with one slightly raised eyebrow and an ever-so-subtle smirk – so subtle that it was as if only Penny was meant to see it.

She walked down the hall to the elevator and once inside couldn’t help but break out into a grin. Penny felt like she had just passed a test.

* * *

Things could’ve gone bad the first time she talked to Bucky. It was a late Saturday night, which Penny had spent at the library reading up on how certain robotics tech can replicate the fluidity of human body movement. She stepped in the elevator from the ground floor and saw that the button for floor eight had already been lit.

“Hey, Penny.”

“Jesus, fuck!” Penny jumped about three feet into the air. Upon landing, she instantly clamped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide and extremely embarrassed at the display she had just made as the doors closed. She was only met with laughter.

“Oh shoot, sorry James, I just didn’t see you there—”

“Kid, I’ve already told you, call me Bucky. No worries, seriously. How’s your night been?

The look in Bucky’s eyes was one of genuine interest but then Penny started to smell the alcohol. _Rum._

_He opens the door softly and she smells it instantly. Rum. She doesn’t know alcohol, but she knows rum because it’s what he always smells like when he—_

“Um, not much. Just – uh – the, uh, library.”

_Jesus, Penny. Get your shit together._

_Rum—_

NO, he’s not here

_Strong. Rum on his jacket—_

Stop it, stop it, stop it

“You all good, Penny?"

Snapping out of her trance, Penny looked back up at Bucky’s face. _Blue eyes, not brown. Not him. Also, Skip didn’t have a metal arm, so there’s that._

“Shit, sorry, I zoned out there for a sec. What did you say?”

“Why were you at the library? Or is library teenage-code for something else these days?”

“Haha, no, just the library. I love reading.”

“Sheesh, Tony, Bruce and Vision are enough – not _another_ nerd on our hands.” He laughed sarcastically.

“So, how are you finding the—”

Before Bucky could finish, the elevator jarringly creaked to a grinding halt. _That didn’t feel right._

“Fuck. This happens a lot, the elevators stuck. Don’t worry, it should be around two hours tops and we’ll be out of here.”

_Stuck. She wanted to get out, but she couldn’t, couldn’t open the door—_

“Penny? Do you know how to play chopsticks?”

Slightly dazed and a little confused at the proposition but happy to be distracted from her intrusive thoughts, Penny nodded.

“Alright, best of one hundred and one. Let’s do this thing.” Penny got the feeling that he actually knew she needed to be distracted.

As the minutes passed by, Penny slowly felt herself relaxing, even easing into the playful banter that Bucky had started. In no time, the elevator intercom dinged and the machine jolted to life, finally ascending once again.

As they doors slid open onto the eighth floor, Sam Wilson’s face slowly came into view. Basically barrelling into Bucky, he began one of his classic tirades.

“Buck-man! You naughty, naughty ninja. How was the date? You’re home late so I’m assumi— oh, hey Penny. Anyway, Bucky motherfuckin’ Barnes, where the hell have you bee—”

“Sam, Jesus, relax. The date was fine, just chill drinks. I came straight home -“ Saying this, he fixed Sam with a stern glare – “but Penny and I got stuck in the elevator for an hour and a half.”

Feeling brave, and seemingly infected by Sam’s exuberance, Penny decided to interject.

“Yeah, and I kicked his sorry ass in chopsticks.”

Sam’s face instantly lit up.

“HAH! You tell him girl.” He cackled, giving Penny a fist to bump, which she did.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you two to – whatever it is guys do when discussing their lame dates at the local pub.” With that, Penny sauntered down the hall, surprised by the cheek she’d just given the two men. Regret quickly overcame her, and worried she’d gone too far, she turned back, ready to apologise – only to see Bucky smiling down at her, and Sam hunched over with laughter, pulling Bucky into room number 1 to poke fun at him further, no doubt.

Walking down the hall, Penny was grateful to be back in open space, but even more grateful to have made some new friends.

* * *

Late on a Sunday morning, Penny was watching youtube in bed when she heard a messy cacophony of what sounded like something heavy falling over and… _piano keys?_

She ignored it at first, but it got louder and louder until she couldn’t bear it. She had learned that the dungeon’s walls were thin and could usually tolerate the insane amount of noise that the other residents omitted, but this was a whole new level of loud.

Exiting her room to investigate, she opened the door only to find Vision lying on the ground covered in… well, covered in a wall piano that was no longer upright. Pepper was frantically trying to heave the giant piano off of said Vision.

“Holy cannoli… do you guys need help? I can go and get Thor or someo—”

“Good morning, Penny. In fact, some assistance would be greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, us three are the only residents of the eighth present on the floor currently.”

 _Jesus, his voice always sounds so robotic._ Ignoring her intrigue in Vision’s vocal rhythm, she instantly ran over to assist Pepper, who was becoming more and more frantic by the second.

“Pepper! Pepper, look at me, he’s fine. Take a deep breath – ready? One, two, three, and PULL—”

And together, they got the piano off Vision, pushed it against the wall in the common area, and flopped onto the couches in exhaustion.

“Oh my goodness me. Penny, thank you so much for your help! You’re stronger than you look,” Pepper remarked appreciatively. “Vision and I have been planning to get a wall piano up here for ages, but only just found one small enough to fit in the elevator. Thank God it’s not broken, it was heavier than we were expecting.”

Satisfied with her explanation (which Penny was still pretty confused at), Pepper got up and… just left. _Huh._

“Why did you want to bring a piano in here?”

“Pepper and I love to play. Do you like music, Penny?”

“Oh, yes. I actually—”

“Found it!” Pepper proclaimed, as she dragged a piano bench towards the piano. “This one was a bit easier to transport.”

“Wonderful, thank you Pepper. Penny was just about to tell me she can play.”

“What? No, uhh, I didn’t—”

“Amazing! You can be the first to try it, Penny!”

Oh gosh. Penny hadn’t played piano since… since her mom’s funeral.

Her mother loved the piano.

“Uhh, I only really know one song.” The song she used to play with mom.

Pepper nodded at her encouragingly. She sat at the piano, took a deep breath, practiced the first few chords slowly, and… _began_.

The playful, effervescent sound of the Beatles’ _Penny Lane_ suddenly sounded throughout the eighth.

_Her mother was a wonderful musician. “Penny Lane is in my ears, and in my eyes! Da da da daa!” "Go on Penny-girl, sing! It’s a song especially for y—"  
_

She abruptly lifted her fingers off of the keys, lost in the moment. “That’s about all I can remember. Sorry.”

“That was wonderful, Penny! The more that can play, the merrier. Just you wait, the boys are suckers for Billy Joel, you’ll get requests for it all the time, and—”

And Penny sat, listening to Pepper and Vision reminisce over the times they’d played piano at the local jazz bar for the other residents, telling her once she was 21 she’d be more than welcome to join. Pepper and Vision were an odd pair, but Penny found herself immensely enjoying their conversation – both were thoughtful, friendly, and straight-to-the-point kind of people.

The last thirty minutes or so of Penny’s life? She wouldn’t have predicted them.

Getting lost in her own thoughts as Penny and Vision discussed the quality of music schools in New York, it occurred to Penny that she was the first to play the eighth’s piano. She realised she had made a mark on the floor, however small, and that’s when she felt like she could really _belong._

* * *

_Shit. Shit shit shit! I’m gonna miss the game!_

Penny had zoned out at the library once again, forgetting that the Ravens-Giants match started exactly four minutes ago. Penny’s love for football began growing up in Baltimore with a massive Ravens fan for a father. As much as she now detested her father, she still loved football, and was particularly excited for this match, given her home team was playing the Giants, the team of her new home.

She sprinted to the elevator, pressed eight about a hundred times and tapped her foot impatiently as the elevator made its slow ascent. _Ping_. She began sprinting down the hall, only to come to a screeching halt before running smack-bang into Thor who was exiting room 3 with a giant bowl of popcorn in his hands.

“Woah! Didn’t see you there Penelope! You’re almost too short for my peripheral!” Thor chuckled happily.

 _Short jokes. Super funny._

“I’m so sorry Tho—”

“Oh, no need to worry. We’re just watching the game in the common a—”

“THE GAME?!? What’s the score?”

  
Before Thor could respond, Penny ran into the common area, eyes glued to the television. It was still 0-0. _Thank God._

A voice behind her shook her out of her trance. “You’re into football, Penny?”

Oh. Steve was here. So was Wanda. And she was blocking their view of the game.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry you guys, I was just heading off anyw— JUST THROW THE BALL!”

“Ahh, so you’re a Ravens fan. Sorry Penny, we can no longer be friends.”

Oh shoot! She should be going for the Giants, this was a mistake, Steve – oh wait, Steve was winking at her. _He’s joking, Penny._ At that moment, a timeout was called, and all focus was drawn to Penny.

“Come on Penelope, sit down! I am going to enjoy watching this match a lot more if I get to watch a Ravens fan cry at the end of it,” Thor laughed, as he slapped Penny on the back – _ouch._

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude—”

“Don’t be silly, Penny. Come sit,” Wanda beckoned Penny over to the other end of the couch. Penny shot Wanda a grateful glance as she took the seat next to her, because as friendly as Thor seemed, she wanted to end the night with as few bruises as possible, which didn’t seem possible if one was within arm’s length of the guy.

“So, Penny, you’re from Baltimore?”

  
 _Shit._ Suddenly she wished the game would resume.

“Uh, yeah.” _Deflect._ “Are you guys from here?”

“Queens. Born and raised. Thor’s from the UK, and Wanda’s Eastern European, but I’ve indoctrinated them into the Giants fandom.” Steve smiled proudly as he turned back to Penny, about to ask her another question, when she was miraculously saved by the bell as the game resumed.

The four of them watched the rest of the game, and Penny grew slowly more comfortable as each minute ticked by. The ravens ended up pulling away with the win, much to Steve’s chagrin, but Thor and Wanda didn’t seem to care as much – they were much more interested in Penny’s victory display.

“HAHA! In your face, suckers!! We haven’t humiliated you this badly since Superbowl 2001. And I wasn’t even _alive_ then!” Penny jumped up and down excitedly.

Realising that her spectacle had been a little childish, she sheepishly sat back down, with a quiet “sorry, that wasn’t great sportswomanship”, to which the trio quietly chuckled.

“That was fun, Penelope! You should join us next time from the start. We usually watch the games here when everyone’s free. If you provide me with your phone number I shall add you to our group chat.”

“Sure, I guess.” Penny played it off coolly as she typed her number into Thor’s phone, but was secretly bursting with excitement. She hadn’t had anyone to share her love of football with since – well, since things were still good with her father.

_You’re sick, Penny_

No I’m not, don’t say tha—

_How could you make up something so twisted_

No I’m not lying dad I swea—

_Liar_

“Penny? Are you okay?”

_Wanda. You’re in the common room and that’s Wanda talking to you, and you just finished the football game._

_Breathe._

“Yeah! Sorry, just zoned out there for a second.” Penny laughed awkwardly to herself, feeling tears gather in her eyes. _Shit. Avert._

“Where’d the guys go?”

Wanda looked at her with increasing concern. “They just left. If you ever need anything Penny, I’m in room 2. You knock whenever, and I’ll answer, okay?”

Speechless, Penny could only nod in response, and managed to croak out “anyway, I better go.” She waved goodbye meekly and practically sprinted back to the Dungeon, throwing the door open, locking it behind her, and feeling herself slide down the wall as she let herself cry, not because of what she had remembered, but because no one had spoken to her that kindly since she was eight years old.

* * *

As the weeks went by, Penny began to get to know the other residents better and better – all but one, Loki. He was very cold towards her, and Penny didn’t know why. She didn’t mind, though. She knew what it was like to find it hard to warm up to people.

Her plan to lay low wasn’t going as planned, because she started to get to know the others better and better. She told herself it wasn’t a problem, only because these people didn’t interact with anyone else but each other – quite literally – so there was no need to worry about her secrets getting out. She slowly began to trust them.

For Halloween, she dressed up as a spider, which gathered some laughs from the eighth’s residents as she opened the door for them to trick or treat. That night, Sam brought Mariokart into the common area, and they all played until their throats were sore from screaming and laughter.

Of all the people, though, Penny still couldn’t get used to interacting with Tony Stark. He was her _idol._ This would only become a problem once the first day of Penny’s internship came around.

Walking into Stark Industries for the first time on a cold Monday morning in November, Penny took a deep breath in.

 _Soak up this moment. You’ve been waiting for it your whole life._ She closed her eyes and thought back to that moment over a year ago, where she had packed her things, left home, and threw herself into achieving this one goal. And now she had _done it._

Now, she also had to focus on not screwing it up.

“Hi there, I’m here for my first day of the Stark Industries Internship Program?”

“Welcome. You must be Penny. Go ‘head and take a seat over there with the other interns and get to know one another!” Said the friendly lady at reception. Swivelling around, Penny saw three other people who looked about her age conversing at a couch in the lobby, and went to join them. As she approached, they all looked up at her expectantly.

“Hi! I’m Penny, um, you guys are the other interns, right?”

“Yup. Hey Penny, I’m MJ.”

“Cool name, what’s it short fo—”

“MJ. Just MJ,” she retorted, though not unkindly, and Penny found herself grinning back in return. _She seems cool._

“Flash. Flash Thompson. Did you drive here? Can you even see over the steering wheel?” Laughing at his own antics, this _Flash_ guy was met with dead silence. _Hah. Serves you right, jackass._

“Well, I’m Ethan, and it’s nice to meet you Penny. I’m sure you’re an excellent driver, for what it’s worth.”

_Holy. Shit._

Standing in front of her was probably the most attractive human she’d ever laid eyes on. _SHAKE HIS HAND PENNY, HE’S OFFERING TO SHAKE HANDS, DO I—_

As they shook hands, Penny smiled widely and found herself speechless. Luckily, she was saved by Flash droning on about the reasons why he’s got the internship, and what he’s going to do with his money.

MJ, Ethan and Penny shot each other looks as if to say, _He seems like a real class act, huh?_ , all sharing secret humourous glances at the utter bullshit coming out of Flash’s mouth.

Penny thought MJ was about to actually slap this guy in the face, but luckily she was interrupted by an authoritative-looking woman sauntering towards the group.

“Alright interns, my name’s Maria Hill. I work for Tony. Follow me, we’ll head up to his office.”

They dutifully followed Maria up, and just as they reached Mr. Stark’s office door, Flash interjected.

“Do you have any advice for us, Ms. Hill?” Flash asked, a little too eagerly. Maria raised an eyebrow without so much as addressing him, went straight back into the elevator and as the doors closed remarked, “yeah. Don’t fuck up.”

Ethan began to chuckle, but quickly shut up as the office door opened, coming face to face with Tony Stark himself.

“Get in losers. Hope you enjoyed my Clueless reference. Number one piece of homework for you all is to watch Clueless. Anyway, take a seat and let’s get acquainted, shall we? Except you, Penny, we already know one another.” Sending Penny a wink, Penny froze up in her seat, as each of the other interns looked at her in awe – well, most of them – Flash was kind of looking at her with the flaming jealousy of a thousand suns.

* * *

“Penny. What’ve you been working on today?”

Penny almost jumped about three feet into the air, suddenly finding Mr. Stark looking right over her shoulder.

“uhh, hi there Mr. Stark. Didn’t see you there! Uhh, how are you?”

“I’m not here to make small talk kid, I’m here to see what you’ve been doing in this lab all day whilst I’ve been paying for your work as well as the equipment you’ve been using. So let’s hear it, short and snappy.”

“Right. Ok. I’ve been trying to develop a new type of micro-metre scale actuator, using an extremely thin layer of platinum, to develop a microscopic robot that could, essentially, move by itself.”

“How does it work?”

“Each robot uses four of these tiny actuators as legs, connected to solar cells on its back that enable the legs to bend in response to laser light and propel their square metallic bodies forwards.”

“And why?”

“Uhh… why?”

“Why. What’s its purpose? Why should I care about it?”

“Well, these bots could take us into the micro-world. Including exploring the human body, considering they can be injected through hypodermic needles and are made from biocompatible materials. The possibilities are endless.”

“So, let’s say you get this done in a week’s time. What’s the next step?”

 _A week? Fat chance._ _Whatever Penny, tell him what he needs to hear._

“Incorporating additional functions, once they can be mass-produced. Sensing capabilities, programmability, the like.”

Tony looked at her with what almost seemed like… _awe._

Patting her on the back, Tony turned to Flash's desk. “Thompson, get over here. Have a listen to what Penny here just told me, and maybe tomorrow you’ll come back with something a little more palatable.”

* * *

At the end of the day, Penny was still buzzing with excitement. She had never felt this on top of her game before, and the internship was already quenching her thirst for challenge. On top of that, she’d exchanged numbers with MJ and Ethan, and the three of them had agreed to go out for coffee that weekend. Waving goodbye to MJ and Ethan, she started to head towards the Eastern exit of the building when she was swiftly interrupted.

“You did well today, kid.”

Once again, Penny’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden intrusion, but this time, all Penny could do was blush as she realised what her role model had just told her. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. That means a lot.”

“Yeah, don’t get all cheesy about it kid. Now, let me drive you home."

“No, it’s all good, I can just walk—”

Suddenly, he lost the playful tone in his voice, and replaced it with... _kindness._ “Penny, today you’ve left me with the impression that you’re smart, I can't have my best intern being kidnapped on her first day on the job. I can drive you home.”

Mr. Stark put on a steely bravado but his warm, chocolatey eyes gave him away. They were too mellow, too selfless to fool Penny.

He was a kind man, and the people she was growing to love loved him for a reason. Maybe starting to accept kindness was something Penny could acquaint herself with. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark. I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think! Reading your comments makes my day.
> 
> Next up is chapter five, Sickness. This one's pretty self-explanatory, so get ready...
> 
> See you all soon!


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